


All Good Things

by crescentmoonthemage



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon Returns, Comfort, Crescent Writes A Fic, Cute, Fluff, Hurt Merlin, Kisses, M/M, Protective Arthur, arthur is a dork, merlin is adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2109606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescentmoonthemage/pseuds/crescentmoonthemage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a strange thing, love, the way it tears us apart.</p>
<p>It is a strange thing, love, the way it makes us stronger.</p>
<p>Arthur Pendragon walks by the lake each day. Each day, he sees the dark haired man with sadness in his eyes. Each day, Arthur wonders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Good Things

**Author's Note:**

> Just a cutesy little Merlin fic. My first! I hope you enjoy! Sort of the same feel as my Cherik Five Times, and just as cute!! :)
> 
> \--CM

_It is a strange thing, love, the way it tears us apart._

The man sits by the lake each day. His dark hair flops over his eyes in a careless sort of manner. He’s always there, in nothing but a red tank and jeans in summer and a thick jacket and scarf in winter.  He sits, and he drinks tea, or eats a sandwich from the quaint café up the street. He’s always there. Always watching.

Arthur is a student. He is at the most prestigious university in England. He is studying law, he has tons of friends and a nearly –full schedule. He has no time to bother with the boy by the lake.

And yet still, the man sat by the lake, and still, Arthur wondered.

It had been late summer when they had first been acquainted. Arthur had just finished moving into his apartment, and had gone out with Percival and Gwaine, his best friends, to celebrate. He gets thoroughly slammed, and nearly walks into the man on his way home. It had been nearly midnight, but there was someone _sitting by the lake! The nerve of some people!_

The next morning, Arthur sees the man again and almost feels bad. He looks like he has lost all purpose in living, and only sheer force of will keeps him getting up every morning.

Arthur walks to and fro from his apartment each day. He could easily take a car, or the metro, but he wouldn’t go by the lake and he wouldn’t see if the man was still there. But it was an easily dispelled fear. Every day and night, when he walked by, the boy was still sitting there, as if he lived there.

There were many times, on the coldest winter days, when Arthur wants to bring a coffee to the boy by the lake, if only to cheer him up. His eyes were always so _sad._ As if he had been through some incredible tragedy and lived to tell about it. Arthur is always struck by the strangest sense of déjà vu. _Do I know you?_ he always asks himself, and each time he firmly tells himself that he doesn’t, that he just looks like someone else.

It took three years before Arthur finally cracked. It was the coldest day in winter, the coldest that Albion had seen in years, and there the man sat. He could have been a statue, but for the look in his eyes and the sad twitch of his jaw. Arthur jogs to the café, gets a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream.  He goes outside, down to frozen Avalon Lake. He gently sits down next to the man, really nearly a boy, now that Arthur is getting a look at him. There’s something new in his eyes this day. Not only the everlasting sadness, though there is that as well. Arthur sees a glint of something that might be hope flash across the face of the boy before him, but then it’s gone. “It’s cold out here,” he comments idly.

When the boy speaks, his voice is raspy, as if he hasn’t used it in a while. “Good of you to notice,” he says, and it takes Arthur a very offended moment to realize that the man is smiling, albeit sadly. Arthur extends the cocoa. “I thought you might want this.”

The boy smiles, pushes his dark hair out of his eyes, and takes the cup. Their fingers brush, for a fraction of a second, and then Arthur _knows._

_The boy, in a red scarf and short pants, standing before him._

_The boy preparing him a bath, and himself throwing a pitcher of water in his face._

_The boy, with a smug and adorable grin lighting up his face._

_The boy, teasing him and comforting him._

_A lake. The boy’s face above him, contorted with pain and grief. Himself, saying something that meant everything._

_The boy crying, screaming, begging Arthur to come back, to please come back, please I can’t lose him, he’s my friend._

_The boy pushing him in a boat, then setting the boat alight._

_Merlin, saying goodbye._

Arthur knows.

He looks up, at the familiar face before him, smiling through a millennia of unshed tears. “Merlin?” he gets out.

“It’s about time, you clotpole,” says Merlin, taking a sip of the hot chocolate and looking happy, sad, and insanely smug all at once.  Arthur lunges for him, knocking the cup into the lake, and what was meant to be a playful smack on the arm turns into a bonecrushing embrace as Arthur envelops the smaller man. Merlin’s arms are around his neck, his arms are about Merlin’s waist, and they are both smiling and crying at the same time. Finally, Arthur lets go, a new thought coming into his head.

“But you… you saw me! I walked past you for three years and you did nothing!” Arthur is suddenly extremely angry.

“Kilgarrah said I wasn’t allowed to. It was all you. You were so close, plenty of times, but you never realized it.”

“How long have you been sitting here?” asked Arthur.

That extremely sad look came into his best friend’s face again. “One thousand, seven-hundred and eighty-four days, seventeen hours, fifty-two minutes and five seconds.” he said. Arthur was appalled. “You’ve been counting… all this time?”

“It’s what kept me sane,” said Merlin simply, as if him going insane was no big deal. Arthur scrubs his blonde hair out of his eyes. “Oh, shut up and let me hold you,” he says. Merlin smiles. “Should I?” he says. “I’m beginning to regret this whole endeavor.” Before Arthur can reply, his eyes flash gold and he melts the snow all around them in a small circle, and warming the ground immensely.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” says Arthur. Merlin smiles, leaning back until he’s nearly on top of Arthur and the blonde has no choice but to put his arms around the smaller man. Merlin leans back comfortably against him, turning his head and burying it in Arthur’s neck, as if they’ve done this hundreds of times. “Missed you,” he mumbles. Arthur smiles, relaxing against Merlin. Deep inside him, he knows that he’s missed Merlin as well, though he hasn’t remembered it. They stay like that for an indeterminable length of time. Finally, Merlin shifts, standing up. Arthur makes a small sound of protest in the back of his mouth. “Cold,” Merlin says. Arthur understands, and stands up. “Let’s go to my apartment,” says Arthur, not knowing where else to go. They walk in silence, and Arthur feels a strange urge to take Merlin’s hand. He banishes it.

When they reach the door to his apartment complex, Merlin hesitates. “What’s wrong, Merlin?” asks Arthur. “I’m scared,” replies the brunette.

“Of what?” asks Arthur.

“Real life,” says Merlin, and Arthur understands. “We’ll be okay,” says Arthur. “Look at what we’ve got! Me and… and you.” That makes Merlin smile. “You hated that when I said it,” he tells Arthur.

“I remember,” laughs Arthur.

And before he even realizes what’s happening, Merlin takes Arthur’s hand, knitting their fingers. The other leisurely makes its way up to Arthur’s hair, running it through his fingers. There is something so beautiful in Merlin’s eyes when the brunette kisses him that he wants to remember it forever. Their kissing is a slow thing, Merlin’s mouth pressed firmly and warmly to Arthur’s own, and it takes a full second before Arthur can process so many wonderful things and begin to kiss Merlin back as if there was no one else in the world but them two. It feels right. It feels more right than anything Arthur has ever done, and it goes on and on. Merlin’s mouth locked against his, Merlin’s fingers running through his hair, Arthur’s arms wrapped around Merlin, clasping at the small of his back, the smell of Merlin, of forests and expensive teas and _home._

Arthur never wants it to end.

Finally, they break away, and Merlin looks even happier than Arthur remembers, a big wide grin stretching his face. Arthur kisses him again, just to make sure he’s real, and then twice more for good measure.

_It is a strange thing, love, the way it makes us stronger._


End file.
